


A Perfect Lie

by Ukthxbye



Series: Don't Complicate It [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Arguing, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Greg is Sweet, Light BDSM, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, and here they go just avoiding them, and here we are again, emotions are not their expertise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22180393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukthxbye/pseuds/Ukthxbye
Summary: Irene said yes to dinner and Greg believes all is well. But choices made come to a head when the two meet again.
Relationships: Irene Adler/Greg Lestrade
Series: Don't Complicate It [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1301933
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	A Perfect Lie

He'd sent the text with a measured hope. That she was just in a mood and not meeting with the Moriarty substitute. Because everything changed once she did. 

When she answered like always, his face dropped its tension and he met his shoulders unknot. 

"So all's good with the Missus?"

His eyes squinted at Sally, "What... huh... wait... I ain't got a missus you mean—"

"Just fucking with you... We get it" Sally rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "Question is…" She dropped her arms and leaned over on the desk. " Do you?"

Greg stared without another word until she broke.

She leaned up, raising her arms in defeat. "Oh, fuck it. You enjoy regular meetings with the Holmes brothers on the subject then. Hope she doesn't get you killed."

He shrugged, fidgeting with his mobile in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. "Business as usual. Just another bullet point on the agenda."

Sally's turn to stare. 

"I know." He growled it and regretted it. He said it softer, "I know... it's OK I promise. No one is getting killed."

"Yeah... little covert op happened near Smith Terrace today. Not us, but caught a bit of gossip."

"Hmm" Greg turned his attention to his laptop avoiding her searching glare. 

"Should hear the details soon. Chances they rounded up some of our suspects... or killed them."

Greg's jaw went taunt again. "We'll hear soon enough. Let me know what you find out… if you find anything else out."

"Sure." She paused but a nod from Anderson at the door sent her out without another word.

His held breath released. Odds good everything occurred as predicted and promised. Until he had the timeline, he'd assume her text came after. Did Mycroft keep his end of the bargain? He could text. But he couldn't at the same time. _No, let it ride._

He set to looking up and ordering dinner on his mobile. Her favorites. He'd get wine on the way home. He wanted her to understand... what did he want her to understand? He couldn't place it in exact terms and decided it best to pour himself into work the rest of the afternoon.

-:-

They'd texted some over the afternoon and he relaxed his concerns. So maybe she saw it all as business. Or maybe she didn't see the cards in play yet. _Fine by me_ , he thought as he picked a decent red up in the shop. 

He set the table, nothing elaborate or candle-lit. She'd read through that like a blinking ad board. Was it too normal? He fussed with the forks, setting them askew as if he just tossed them on the table. 

Fear crept up the back of his neck whispering thoughts he'd pushed away all day. He'd see it when she came in the door, he reminded himself. But would he? Her skills surpassed his. She'd be able to read it from him if he didn't calm down. 

He guzzled beer and waited for its effect.

-:-

Irene took each stair to his flat with care letting the sound of each heel soak in. All black dress, leather, and hair tight back on her head. _His funeral,_ she joked to herself. Her plan set in stone and she would not waver. She paused as she put the key in one last time. She'd toss it on the kitchen counter when he poured her a glass of wine. It would stay there for duration. Dinner, the same as always. Wine but not as much as she wanted. Confrontation would come and he would know the price of his interfering. And then she could breathe again. 

The key turned loud, and she entered with her best smile and he greeted with a pressing kiss before she said a word. 

"Perhaps we should skip dinner," she sighed as his lips traveled down her jaw line. His small chuckle at her neck, that boyish grin pressed at her pulse and she considered an allowance in her plan. But when he pulled away, the resolve wash back over her. 

"Dinner?"

She perceived how she said it. She meant it but some other part of her gave her away.

"Let's get to it, baby doll."

They stared at the other, and he took the hint. In a breath his hands grabbed her arse and thighs, lifting her to a straddle as her arms wrapped around his neck. The kisses heated and desperate. She grasped why her's were so, but his confused her. It was only yesterday why would he... oh but perhaps that is the guilt she mused. As he felt her pause, he pulled back searching her face.

"If you really want dinner, I'm sorry I—"

"No." She said it with a harsh tone but corrected it with a bite of her lip. "It's what we do best."

She spied a thought run across his mind, his eyes squinting but she hid her own with teeth scraping across his lips kiss as he adjusted his grip on her and walked them toward the bedroom. _Well, this speeds things up,_ she thought.

A tiny alarm bell rang in his head, that this all was too easy. But the relieved concern from her surviving the encounter with her past washed over him and he desired to celebrate every inch of her skin unharmed before him. 

He set her on the bed much too gentle. She'd expected a drop, and she frowned as he shoved her dress up and set to work on her thighs toward the goal he'd want to achieve first. The memories clouded her mind to an agitated ache. But she knew oxytocin's effect, and she refused to let it take over. Her fingers searched and found his hairline, slipping in. She closed them to a fist and snatched upwards, producing a yelp of pain from Greg. He sat back on his legs as she rose to her knees, still gripping his hair.

"I'm in a bit of a mood tonight, DI." She feigned a pout. " I'm gonna need you to lie down and take it like the man you are."

An eyebrow crooked with his mouth agape and she chuckled. "Oh nothing too extreme. I see that worried glance and can read your uncertainty. But I need those hands put away, keeps them out of trouble. Do be a good boy and get those handcuffs out of the drawer or do I—"

"I'll get'em."

She watched his eyes darken, hand working blind at the drawer beside the bed as he laid down. She took them from him, working up his body, unbuttoning his shirt as she teased a look down her dress his reward for compliance. 

The metal scraping on the bed posts music to her ears, triggering well worn habits that calm her. She tightened them, the cuffs near biting at his wrist and he grunted but he was familiar. It's not normal for her to be gentle, he thought and felt comfort in the thought. 

"Well then DI… only one thing left to do."

She leaned back straddling his thighs and without a telegraph slapped him across the cheek so hard she feared she cracked a bone in hand. Her nail caught his cheek, opening a small slit across it blood seeping out. 

She'd expected more than his cry out in pain. Words seemed pushed down by his heaving breath. 

He muttered, "Fucking hell, Irene."

She slipped a foot off the bed, hands holding his legs down and stepping back to avoid a kick. He didn't bother with one. 

"Well, that's quite enough then. I could go into detail but you know what you did. Good luck, DI."

"Irene... IRENE!"

His yelling faded as she left the room silent and measured. She wanted to run. But calm was better, she reminded herself. Its effect is priceless. 

She took up her handbag she'd dropped near the door. She closed her eyes pausing hearing the metal scrapping of his struggle with the cuffs. But she opened them wide when he appeared in a sprint from the room at her. She stepped wide to the door reaching for the handle but his hand found her arm, fingers firm in their grip snatching her away into the sitting room. 

Her shocked glare expected, and he released her just as quick as he grabbed her. 

"I believe there's more to talk about," he said. His voice low, dark eyes steady.

"How... how did you—?"

"I hid a key in reach. Just in case."

"Just in case?"

"Baby doll, you've done this before… well, the handcuff thing anyway."

His hand reached to his aching cheek. The bloodied fingertips he returned made him pause, but he hoped it might not swell much then. 

"You gonna arrest me, DI?" She knew he could. She assumed he wouldn't... probably. Doubt wiggled in her thoughts and she regretted her anger however calculated.

"God dammit you can be so slow on the uptake, Irene."

She frowned. 

"Dinner?" he smirked, wiping the blood away with the collar of his shirt.

"No, I'm leaving."

"No you're not."

She raised her eyebrows, "Pardon?"

He said low, "You're above this and a fucking adult. So tell me what you need to say and then you can go with a clear conscience." 

She laughed. An ugly exposure of her anger and she cut it short.

He huffed, "Or you can be a child—"  
  


"Shut up. I can be an adult about this if you can." Her voice quieter than he or she expected. 

"Wanna sit?" he motioned to the chair across from his sofa." Gonna get some ice for this."

She waited in silence, crossed her legs and arms until he returned and flopped on the sofa, wincing as he touched the flannel wrapped ice to his wound. Blood soaked in one spot as he lifted it away. She ignored the mixed feelings it provoked. 

More silence. Neither could decide if speaking first meant the upper hand or a disadvantage. 

"You... I… No. I will leave now." She shifted to her seat edge, picking up her purse.

"You might hear from the Holmes brothers soon."

_So matter of factual_ she thought.

She smiled as she answered back. “That sounds like a threat.”

He sighed, “Deals were made and Mycroft keeps his word.”

“Fascinating considering he gave all indications I was innocent” She laughed at what he referenced. But would he admit his part in it?

“Even more than you were before,” he said his voice resolute and steady. 

_Proud?_ She thought.

She slipped out the slick black thumb drive from her purse. "Oh DI, is this what you are referring to?" She rotated it in her fingers, his eyes following every rotation and she placed it back in her purse.  
  


He nodded, "Guessing it's all your... history... yours to do what you will."

Her eyes narrowed to slits, "Feel an extra bit of warmth in your chest for your act of mercy?"

He shrugged one shoulder more than the other, the bite in her voice bitter in his ears."I just wanted to tip the balance back—"

"Too much for you?'  
  
She took a deep breath through her nose as he snickered. His nerves firing and his fear creeping at the back of his neck as he swallowed hard. _She's never gonna believe me but I say it, anyway._ "No, it was too much for you. You're taking all the risk and for what reward? Being left alone is a reward to itself. Clears your record, your history. It's a kind of freedom that some can only dream of. It was in my power to get it for you." 

He tried to catch her eyes to search them, but she turned her glance to the side. He rubbed the back of his neck, a headache threatening. " To be honest, I'm surprised it worked. That's all. I'm not asking for—"

"Don't. Everyone's got a price, Greg." 

He wanted to stand, but he leaned forward, resting his arms on his leg. "Maybe they do, Baby Doll... but I consider us very even."

"You're aware that is a lie." She half believed it. 

"Only if you want it to be, Irene," he said, rubbing his hands together and to his face again staring into space now. "It doesn't have to be as complicated as we're making it."

Her turn to seek his eyes to read. "Do you know the price for this... prize? Truly considered the numbers?"

Greg threw up his hands. "Talking about obtaining it legally or some other way? Come on, Irene…"

She waited until he looked at her. His eyes showed fear. "No. We're never even. Perhaps if I saved your life? Oh, but that's not what I do." She half laughed to herself at the passing thought of another debt she could never pay. 

Greg's face fell at those words and she studied it much too close. She turned her eyes down as the ache in her chest swelled pressing against her ribs with a held breath. _How did he do it? He's the one who should feel guilty, should feel anything,_ she mused. But the decisive pain and emotion threatened to derail her anger into something softer and somber. She turned her head away to keep him from reading it. 

"We both had something to gain, that's all I'm saying." He sighed. He wanted to take her hand. To turn the tide. 

She didn't lift her face, but she saw his unsure hand reaching for hers. She stood up fast, and he matched it. "I'm going to leave now."

"No. We are still talking... please, sit."

She sat again as did he. 

If he wanted to keep going, she could too. "You didn't need to do it. Any of it."

"What choice did I have?"

"Weak" She hissed it out too tight clenched teeth, her teeth grinding producing a shudder she'd hate for him to infer. "Are you his bitch now? They've called me icy, but he takes it to an extreme. Maybe you're into that."

"Did you have a choice?"

She scoffed, "I always--"

"Fuck your deflections." He said it soft. Pleading in his voice but the volumed rose as he continued. "Be honest for once, if only with yourself Irene. Did you really have a fucking choice?" 

His stare burned into her. She wanted to speak. She had ever desire to bite back with something. And every second she didn’t, it calculated to an answer. Even if it was true, she didn't want to say it. 

A small throaty chuckle escaped as he looked at the ground. "Oh, the silence tells me everything. We both know what the barrel of a gun feels like against the temple." He motioned with a finger to his head as he leaned in, "Literally and not. They had both on you."

“You know a lot for someone who shouldn’t have a clue,” she bit back.

“I had my reasons for concern—“

"Sure.” 

“Mycroft made it clear to me what I had at stake for this as well.”

She swallowed and looked to the side and the floor. She considered it. Not that she wanted to admit why and she wouldn't.

She sighed as she leaned back in the chair. "Then I’m correct about it being business… and about your reputation in the end. Got to stay in good graces with everyone and not sure if fucking me was the best idea, eh?" Her eyes met his, seeking something to confirm her theories but they remained as veiled as hers. "We have different ideas of what to give power to."

"That's funny that’s what you want to bring up," he shrugged leaning back. " So maybe I admire your business. You couldn’t give a fuck what others think and I lo—… I like that. So bloody well if you beat the shit out of people for their enjoyment. It’s legal. You’re just a therapist? God that’s not relevant, anyway."

She ignored the statement and only sighed. 

Another moment of quiet filled the room. 

He didn't like it. "So here we are," he murmured to break its effect. 

"We aren't anywhere," she snapped back. 

His brow furrowed. "Irene…" His voice cracked as he whispered her name. 

"Just… today was decidedly too much." The nervous energy crawling under her skin and headache pulsed under her temples.  
  


"I agree."

"You don't get to agree you have your experience and I have mine." She was letting him get to her. Every look and word prickled under her skin. 

"So where does this go now?"

"Don't text me unless I text you," she said. " Won't be good for appearances, correct?" She stared at him, making sure she spied a sign he understood. 

"Whatever you need." He said intending it plain as he said it but her frown confused him.

She huffed, shaking her rubbing her aching forehead "Why do you—"

"What?"

"Capitulate to every word—" she threw her hands out in frustration. 

"Why not? It's part of the thing we are, eh?" He shrugged wide eyed as he sat up. He let a grin grow as he spoke. "Thought you liked it."

She smiled back, but as a weapon. "But it's not your intention. I see through it."

He nodded as if he agreed, "Oh... I see sussed it all out now. How about this though—"

"I’m not—"

"Shut up for five bloody minutes and listen just for once without working four moves ahead." His voice rose in frustration as he stood. 

She said in a low voice, glaring as she stood up. "Don't you dare tell me to shut up."

He laughed rubbing his face as he turned around and then back to face her, "I knew it wouldn't get anywhere but you questioned the begging so I thought I'd try a bit of what you do?"

She rolled her eyes. "It isn't you." 

He stepped in front of her. So close his open shirt brushed against her arm as he stared down into her eyes waiting a breath before answering in a deliberate and low voice. "Sure as hell isn't… we both got something to say but we ain't gonna say it tonight. I always guessed our first real fight was gonna be a good one."

She lifted her chin. “Oh, no this isn’t a fight… it’s a negotiation.” Her voice matched his, and she kept it steady but behind it a conflict in her mind rose with him so close.

"Oh?" He said his face getting closer to hers, but stopped at her glare. 

"Yes." She hissed it through her teeth and he backed away. 

"Where’s, uh..." he looked around the room as in jest. " The written contract we are discussing then?" 

“Shut it.”

“Your amendments? Proposal?“

She closed her eyes. “Shut. Up.”

"PowerPoint?" He folded his arms across his chest. 

“Fucking shut up!” she shouted her eyes wide looking for some relief from his pursuit of this idea. 

"Neighbors, Irene." He stepped back toward her. "Then it’s a fight."

“Couples fight not—“

"Us?"

She shut her eyes tight. "Why did I come here, why am I still here speaking with you when I should have ignored your text?"

"Because... because," he stammered. 

"Habit!" she said.

"Habit?" His face scrunched at the word but she ignored it. 

"Yes!"

Both took breaths in heaves and could only bear a glancing stare in each other’s direction. 

Passion is dangerous they both think to themselves and work to steady their pulses.

"So about those rules..." He gulped. 

"You know the rules." 

"Oh yeah, I got them. But here we are and…" 

"And what?" 

"I… yeah, let's just leave it there."

"Spit it out DI."

He shook his head as he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back to catch her glare.

"What's done is done and I don't regret it. Even if you walk out that door for the last time." He paused as she looked away. "I've… yeah we aren't ready for that discussion now."

"We've said what we each wanted to say." She sighed picking up her purse. "As I said, a new rule. Don't text me unless I text you." She looked at him and shook her head closing her eyes with a sigh. "Which I'm sure you'll break." 

"Yeah… sure." he snickered because he was out of ideas to keep her here as he stepped near her. "Drink before you go?"

She pleaded with her eyes, a plea she couldn't put words to as she said his name. 

"Greg…"

He grinned but the sadness behind his eyes made her pause. But he shook it away, and she closed her eyes in fear she revealed something similar. All the frustration and anger gone. Vulnerable the next stage and she must leave before it took over. He'd convince her to any end to their evening except the one she needed most right now. That thought sparked enough irritation to put her hand on the door knob. 

"See you around, Baby Doll" he whispered as he leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. 

"See you around DI." With that she opened the door and shut it with a soft click behind her. 

**Author's Note:**

> these two... when she said his name, amiright? When he kissed her cheek? That shit hurted.
> 
> Listened to these two songs because they became a mood, even if the lyrics aren't exactly matching the story. 
> 
> Oh, Maker(cover)- Left at London  
> https://youtu.be/8TawPbAZdZg  
> Persephone-The Tragic Thrills  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/0L9c6xtjgeHjcDaMjS752x?si=AxrFJU0PQ02EBSD74egR9g
> 
> thanks to Mouse9 as always


End file.
